A New Tradition
by Shinoda Senshi
Summary: It's Christmas morning and Randy has only one thing on his mind. Not peace on Earth. And the only man likely to receive his good will is more concerned with not waking the rest of the house. *Warning: Contains m/m slash*


**A New Tradition**

Though he would never admit it, even under penalty of beheading, Randy Orton was a snuggler. Especially on cold winter mornings. He liked nothing more than to be buried beneath a mound of thick blankets while resting his pretty little head on a feathery soft pillow. Such were the luxuries he afforded himself.

A cover hog at heart, Randy willingly shared them with his lover, John Cena. That's what made the snuggling so wonderful. A partner. Someone to kiss and caress under the soothing warmth of a few quilts and a down comforter. Eyes barely open. Morning breath ignored. Fingertips sneaking beneath shirts and across bare skin.

"We should stop." John's words were barely understandable as he used his tongue to lick across Randy's lips.

The house was not their own. Rather, that of John's parents. The bed they occupied was located in one of the few guest rooms available. Randy and John were lucky to get it. The Christmas season had brought about a Cena family reunion. Aunts, uncles, and a slew of cousins, some that even John could not identify. Instead of spending extra money on hotel rooms, most of the relations bedded down at Casa Cena. Stationed on couches. Sprawled across the floor. Many doubling up in the available beds. The two lovers were incredibly grateful to have the room all to themselves.

Daylight seeped through the thick curtains. Soon, familial obligations would be thrust upon them. Randy pulled John closer. They only had so much alone time allotted. He intended to make the most of every second. "Have I told you how glad I am you wear your dog tags to bed? Gives me something to grab onto." He did just that. Twined his fingers around the studded chain and tugged. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to make his intentions clear.

Even though he knew better than to argue with Randy when the man's mind was occupied by debauchery, John tried anyway. "Randy, we shouldn't do this."

"John-boy, you make me a list of all the things we shouldn't do so I can cross them off, one by one." Randy circled his finger around his lover's belly button. One of John's sweet spots. Coupling that with the teeth nibbling at his earlobe and all rational, reasonable thought was bound to fly from his head.

Cena refused to be swayed. He remained logical even in the face of Randy Orton's sneaky, sexy tactics. "It is Christmas morning and others are bound to be up already. My grandmother has gotten up at dawn for the least thirty years. What if she walks by and hears us?"

Sometimes, Randy thought John just liked to hear himself talk. "Then we'll have to be quiet, won't we?"

"You don't know how to be quiet."

Chuckling, Randy sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of John's ear. "Not my fault. You encourage me to be loud. But I can try, Johnny. For you, I'll try."

It was the best John could hope for. A promise of discretion. One that would probably be broken in less than five minutes. Still, John took the chance. Because the prospect of Randy writhing beneath him proved too enticing to pass up. If it came down to it, he would simply have to smother his lover to keep from being found out.

Seeing John had come around to his way of thinking, Randy stepped up his game. No more careless caresses. His every touch was intentional. Gliding his hands along John's chest. Scoring his nails down his back. The heavier John breathed, the harder Randy became. He loved unraveling his lover. Taking apart his self-control, piece by piece.

Fully engaged now, John pushed Randy onto his back. He grabbed the bottom of Randy's shirt, pulling it up and off. If any of his relatives were to walk in at that moment, there would have been no doubt regarding their interaction. This was straight up foreplay.

Hot lips encircled Randy's nipple. The tongue that flicked across that hardened nub nearly undid his vow of silence. Hand clamped over his mouth, he moaned and shuddered. His back arched off the bed at a sudden scrape of teeth. More moaning, with a colorful curse thrown in. Under such treatment, Randy could not possibly be expected to hold up his end of the bargain.

"You promised, baby," John murmured, seemingly reading his lover's mind. He kissed the spot over Randy's rapidly beating heart. "Gotta be quiet." Because there was no turning back. John took off his own shirt and tossed it away.

Nearly naked.

Nearly wasn't good enough. John and Randy thought each other best when fully nude. Nothing coming in between their bare flesh but sweat.

Randy raised his hips as John tugged his pants down. The sheets were smooth against his bare bottom. Sheets that belonged to John's parents. On a bed in his family's home. In a house full of people, some still asleep and some rising to greet the day. None of them had a clue that dear, sweet John was about to fuck his lover's brains out.

Drunk on the knowledge that they could get walked in on at any moment, Randy spread his legs wide. Slowly stroking himself under John's watchful gaze. He loved having those blue eyes on him. Randy rolled his hips until he found the perfect rhythm. Not to get himself off. That was John's job and the man prided himself on his impeccable performance. Randy did not tease himself for his own enjoyment. His show stoked his Johnny's fire, as well. Made him hot to pound is lover into the mattress.

"It's Christmas," John mumbled, mainly to himself. "I'm about to have sex on Jesus' birthday, in my parent's house. I am so going to hell for this. Grandma, please forgive me."

Moving quickly, John slipped from under the covers and off the bed. He rummaged through one of the zippered pockets of his suitcase. Having found whatever he'd been searching for, John whipped off his pajama bottoms before returning to Randy. He held a bottle of lubricant in his hand.

"You really are a boy scout, aren't you?" Randy grinned at the man's preparedness.

John spread a bit of the liquid onto his fingers. "Didn't think we'd be needing it, but knowing you…"

"Are you calling me a slut?"

"No, I'm calling myself a slut because I obviously can't say no to you."

A warm finger, slickened by cool lube, slipped into Randy's hole. John worked his lover loose with as much speed as he dared. Adding a second and third finger as Randy threw his head back. True to his word, Randy stayed quiet. John knew his lover to be a moaner. A wall-shaking, bed-breaking screamer. Even as his hands clutched the sheets and his hips matched the rhythm of those rapidly moving fingers, Randy gasped. A sharp and sudden intake of breath as John stretched and filled him.

"Want your dick, Johnny." A harsh whisper forced out between clenched teeth. At that moment, when he couldn't help squeezing the fingers inside him, Randy struggled to adhere to John's foolish request. Even as the fingers left his body, a moan slipped out. "Please, please, please…" He begged for the strength for silence. He begged to last longer than the first few strokes. Most of all, as the air cooled the sweat on his body and covered his skin with goosebumps, Randy begged to finally feel John stroking inside him.

If there were time, John would have kissed every inch of Randy's body. Forehead, neck, shoulders, chest, stomach. A quick peck on each hip. The inside of his thighs, the back of his knees. He would pay worship to his lover's body on this the holiest of days. John had no time. The likelihood of being caught increased with every passing second. He could not bask in the lustful gaze of his lover's eyes. Or savor the flavor of his lips. Instead, John slicked his shaft and whispered, "Can't say _dick_ on Christmas, baby."

Randy should have braced himself. Covered his face with the spare pillow. Shoved the material into his mouth until he could barely breathe. Because he knew what to expect. Knew the effect of the head of John's cock squeezing through his hole. The gentle nature of his lover meant that it slowly stretched him as it slid inside. The pleasure of penetration overwhelmed him. A moan slipped past Randy's lips. Not loud enough to wake the neighbors, but it was far from innocent. His was not the morning groan of a man stretching after enjoying a good night's sleep.

Acting quickly, John covered Randy's mouth with his own. That swift movement drove him deeper. He swallowed another moan as he found himself fully surrounded by his lover's tight heat.

Not even John's tongue kept Randy from talking. There was no restraining him. "God, Johnny, your _dick_! I love your dick so fucking much!"

Having resigned himself to hell, John did not bother restricting his lover's vocabulary. Instead, he encouraged it. Speaking softly as he slowly thrust. Careful not to rock the bed or make the mattress squeak. "Love you, too, baby… Love the way your ass grips me so fucking tight… Just for me… All mine…"

Randy wrapped his fingers around John's dogtags. Used the chain to keep him close. The gentle lovemaking made it harder to keep quiet. A fast fuck would have had him too out of his mind to make a sound. Instead, Randy was treated to every inch of that beloved dick. He felt it all. The fat head sliding deep. The thick shaft filling him up. Even the weight of John's balls resting against his ass as he reached bottom sent a shiver up Randy's spine.

"Harder." Randy forced back another moan as John sunk into him again. Hard and fast would overload his senses. Making speech impossible. He'd be too busy gasping for air. "Fuck me harder."

Another downward stroke. "Can't, baby." John pulled back out. Slowly dragging himself along Randy's walls. "They'll hear."

"Don't care." Being quiet was the hardest thing Randy ever had to do. It made his being with John more intimate. Sharpened his mind until he focused on the slip and slide of their skin. On the blueness of John's eyes and the fullness of his lips. On the fact that only John had ever been allowed to call him _baby_ and how his heart raced every time he did. They were more than friends, more than fuck buddies. They were lovers in the truest definition of the word.

All that thinking, all that _feeling_ was too much. It made him want to spend all morning in bed with John, even though they had only a few minutes left. Not nearly enough time to fully enjoy his company. If he couldn't have all the hours necessary, then Randy wanted it over quickly. Wanted to come before it was too late.

"Please, Johnny." He bit his lip as the head rubbed at a sweet spot deep inside.

Reading his lover's need, John threw back the covers. He drew Randy down to the foot of the bed. Standing at the edge, feet on the floor, John raised his lover's hips off the mattress. "Anything for you, baby."

John gave Randy what he'd asked for. Fucked him hard, fucked him fast. Slammed his cock deep into his lover's ass. Randy never made a sound. Head thrown back, he screamed silently. All John heard was the sound of their ragged breathing.

A knock at the door nearly gave them each a heart attack. "Breakfast is cooking. Be ready in about ten minutes. Fifteen if your father burns the bacon."

Before the doorknob could turn, John shouted, "Okay! We'll be there!" He took a moment to pride himself on sounding calm. Even as he continued to pump in and out of Randy's body. Absolutely brilliant.

Even though he didn't know if the person had gone or if they intended to hold a conversation through the door, Randy wrapped his hand around his dick. Rubbed his thumb across the leaking head as John proceeded to fuck him into oblivion. Given the ten minute warning, he had to reach an end sooner rather than later.

John didn't need to be told how close they had come to danger. There were few more compromising positions to be caught in. Somehow, that extra bit of danger made it all the hotter. Caution completely thrown to the wind, they rutted with abandon. "That's it, baby… Stroke it for me… So fucking sexy with your dick in your hand… Come on, baby."

The extra urging had Randy's hand whipping up and down his length. The cock inside him never slowed. Never missed a beat. His balls ached to release their load. His skin tingled. His muscles tightened. He was almost there. "Your dick, Johnny… Fuck me so good…"

"You love my dick, baby."

"Yes."

"Say it."

That single command was all Randy needed. He swore his undying affection to his lover's cock as he came. "Love it, Johnny! Oh, God… Love it… Shoot it… in me…"

Grinning wide, John complied. "Anything for you, baby. Give you… everything." He drove himself deep as he gave over all he had. Released shot after shot of hot spunk. Practically purring as Randy's muscles milked him to the last drop.

John lowered his lover completely onto the bed before lying down beside him. He ran his fingers through the white streaks of come splattered across Randy's stomach and chest.

"They're gonna have to wash these sheets." Randy sighed, full of contentment as well as seed.

"They would have anyway."

"Yeah, but they may want to put it through twice. Pretty sure I shot far and wide." He watched as John slid a come covered finger in his mouth. "You that hungry? Breakfast is in, like, five minutes."

John smirked as he took another taste. "I love every part of you, Randy. Even this."

There were days when he didn't know which of them crazier. "You're a sick man, Cena. Beautiful, but sick."

Gracing Randy with a cheeky, dimpled grin, John wrapped him in his arms. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

**END**


End file.
